WAT. new character redesigns for 2012 guys. $80 commission from brunchmeatmccarthy on etsy. These have been long coming, quite honestly :/ god i love this. they look delicious *eats* *nomnom* ah I am satiated
catch of dismay
Yellow Dr. Octopus boots advertise your wealth to the world. Don’t wear them in dangerous places unless you are prepared to defend yourself.
This is accurate to the best of my firsthand knowledge. With that knowledge in my mind I am afraid to go fishing and thus I never have.
The green stuff was supposed to be sky but something went wrong.
This is the sort of picture that makes me think I’m losing my mind. Or perhaps I have found it and merely lost someone else’s. I hope whoever that is does not come around looking for it. The person will be in no mental condition to search effectively.
I suspect I am bored by my own ideas now but not sure what to do about it.
Are those people on The Office at all concerned about this documentary crew that’s been filming, following and interviewing them for eight years? Isn’t that a tremendous drain on productivity? Are they curious as to when this movie is coming out?
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A lot changes in a year.
I hardly consider that sufficient warning!
I would hire a note-taker but it would not be fair to impose this on anyone else.
The idea here is to show four major playing cards from a hypothetical complete set based on a theme, and I chose dangerous or lethal fruit. Fruit amuses me, as do unfortunate happenings befalling pitiful beings. A full deck might include, as opposing “suits,” dangerous vegetables, or fruit which has qualities other than danger, such as safety (throwing a lemon at a button across the room which deactivates a doomsday laser) or repulsiveness (lemons look kind of dumb). I am optimistic about the great amount of possibilities.
Regardless of some questionable design decisions and standards compliance on my part for this project, I found the Adobe Illustrator experience to be useful. It is an effective tool for making basic art look more complicated than it is.
The “apple” shape was chosen based on no research which determined apples to be the quintessential generic American fruit. I experimented with making the apple into a lit fuse bomb or a medieval spiked ball, but these were deemed to create an outline which was needlessly difficult to manage in large quantities. In the end, a simple, unaltered apple seemed best, for that allows for minimal cutting, plus the crucial element of surprise. Nobody should expect the horror that lurks on the other side. One focus group member reported being so unsettled by the experience that even the innocuous apple on the safe side began to develop fearsome attributes such as intimidating sharp teeth and devilish glowing eyes.
Pears are fired through an automatic ball-pitching machine at a tube-nosed vagabond.
A pineapple is vigourously scraped against a restrained generic lizardoid.
A watermelon is involved in a hiking accident.
A tangerine is used to soil the garment of a respectable citizen, whose gesture of shock assists a large-eared bystander in acquainting itself with a barrel of an acidic substance.
And now you know.
new imps are floating in strange places. they want me to fix it, I suppose!
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Incididdly, the reason the monopoly piece took so long was because I was preparing this, and then removed it, and then this took longer.
Yes so Computer Banking Monopoly was discovered at toys r us.
No, not THAT place.
This one. The facade is undoubtedly fancy but indistinguishable from every other building in the future abandoned lot. It’s the only place where I’ve ever seen a Friendly’s and a Ruby Tuesday directly adjacent to one another, along with the world’s greatest Wendy’s.
Yes likely you’ve encountered enough lamentations decrying aesthetics from another era being replaced with uninspired modern sterility. However I think it must be said the old one has the look of a toy store with a specific identity all its own, whereas the newer one you might as well just call Chain Licensed Product Store. If you swapped the sign with that of Target or Sports Authority, other stores in the vicinity, it would not be apparent to anyone until they walked inside. And why would they? I can’t even say for certain that such a switch hasn’t been made between when I entered and took the picture because I’m not likely to go in again. The only indication that it is a real toys R us is the creepy void behind it. Even the old Toys R Us that I liked had a sleazy wasteland surrounding it, and according to that website I linked at, mine was the only store in connecticut that closed down before it could be reblanded. The author claims it was because the location was lousy and the building was “sinking” but I like to think it’s because the store had integrity. It was integritty. It would plunge to the depths of hell and have a crummy auto supply joint move in before it would submit to graphic design. I don’t necessarily mean good graphic design, but just any at all. Say what you like about East Haven (or just repeat what I’ve written about it through the years without reminding me that I wrote it), but of the two units in its structure it wasn’t Toys R Us who dared remind me of Battletoads.
I will be the first to say we should toss old, irrelevant characters aside and stop holding up progress by deifying irrelevant fictional commercial personifications, but if we replace them with something worse and call it the same then we’re missing the point. I loved that store, as trashy as it was. Does anybody love this place?
Yet I was glad it wasn’t the Toys R Us in that still at the end of Double Dare where the giraffe head had a huge, towering neck. I’d have never gone near that. It was so bad apparently that I entirely forgot about the frightful gremlins standing in front of it.
Much mystique I suppose lies in the fact that these places are mostly gone. Maybe I wouldn’t think this design so special had it not been nine years since I’d even passed one on a highway. In fact they are kind of tacky. If you pull out you see that no store ever bothered to keep up this facade the full length of the building and it comes across as lazy, too.
Toys R Us was the first store I knew of to issue its own currency. I can only assume employees were paid in this to discourage them from trying to escape the premises. However, with the volatility of the world-wide economiseep, those who have survived to become refugees have discovered a startling fact:
Geoffrey Dollars are now worth more than real dollars. 3.433 times more. Though America may have abandoned the gold standard, the people’s democratic republic of Toys R U.S. never lost faith in the dork standard, even if they tried to disguise it.
With that in mind I now intend to begin distributing to loyal bimshwel customers Mitz Bucks™,
the only true and consistent abstract monetary representation of this domain name. Bimshwel has been privately owned since 2002 and sells no advertising except when robots get in and they keep all their money, which is in useless US units anyhow. Unlike some international currencies, valued by nothing more than their relationships with each other, Mitz Bucks™ are backed by the unprecedented scumbaggitude and scoundrelity of nemitz. The only thing that would bring down their value would be if nemitz started being a decent person unworthy of scorn or contempt. Greater American Dollars rise or fall by how many people want them. Nobody wants nemitz around, so Mitz Bucks’™ value can only increase. We shall have the dollar on the run.
Aw nutf I didn’t plan on this! How can I arrest this fiend?
Great thinking! I will simply buy all the dollars before they escape.
Or send my army of flatulent marionettes in pursuit. I’ve been trying to get them out of the house, quite honestly.
I keep seeing this and forgetting that I sent it to myself.
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Charlie should not make pizza. By someone’s definition (Charlie’s) this is considered pizza. Who else has bad definitions of pizza?
I don’t know what one tastes like hot, but a cold domino’s pizza tastes like a bag of pizza combos pre-trans fat makeover. Which explains at last why the combos people think that tastes like pizza. According to legend, this pizza has bacon on it. i think an Egg McMuffin would have more bacon on it. I hesitate to add the clincher “and an egg mcmuffin has SAUSAGE on it” for I suspect even that may be hard to prove.
The process of explaining how I came into possession of this object incriminates some individuals who probably deserve better than to be incriminated over pizza.
Sometimes when you end up a with watery base, Eggo wafflish crust, almost pink tomato sauce, and a cheese layer that seems to be a single unit, you can make the excuse no this isn’t misguided chefmanship, it’s Greek style pizza. It’s no wonder why they’re always smashing plates. It would be fine if they used good ingredients, but they never will. I formed that hypothesis a few years before the Greek economy became an international liability and I won’t go so far as to blame a complex issue far older than our limited American awareness of it that is bringing suffering to millions of people whose governments increasingly punish their own citizens to maintain their own pointless wealth on bad pizza. Rather, it’s probably a combination of that and all the broken plates. But Domino’s doesn’t even have cultural differences to blame its inadequacy on; rather, it is perfectly matched with the culture that it offers service to, which is why it stays in business.
The only remotely ethnic restaurant I ever saw dominoes in was a pan-Asian establishment and it knew better than to serve pizza. The chefs there stick to what they know and preserve their dignity.
Yerp, pizza combos, pizza rolls, pizza pockets, pizza goldfish, pizza PRINGLES. None of these taste at all like pizza, but I bought them all, many times, even once I knew it. The goldfish just tasted like regular goldfish with random flavored salt on them, but the pringles were notably bad and chemical aftertaste-y. Yet I bought them again.
We just like things to have “pizza” in their names and we don’t hold them to any standard unless they ARE pizzas, and sometimes not even then. Even after swearing off Red Baron, Totino and Elio pizzas* I continued eating the lousy pringles. Pizza flavored non-pizzas seem to get a free pass. (*I never ate a Tony’s
To your amazement, no doubt. If I wasn’t enticed by smooth plastic fisher price playhouse pizza surely the creepy Drew Friedman airbrush kid would seal the meal)
It’s become a routine. We think we like pizza because we remember liking pizza, but clearly we’re bored with it. What if we could have pizza as potato chips?
Or what if we could eat it out of a starchy carbohydrate sock instead of slices? Slices are so HARD.
Shooting the ad with a green screen box to accommodate different regional sub brands without refilming the same great great scenes with the same great, great song where there’s no conspicuous lyrical void allowing for the insertion of “Ellio’s” as the situation demands has the additional benefit of making the product seem real and valid compared to the very fake looking packaging.
This at least solves my problem of not being able to take a bath because it interfered with my ability to eat pizza-derived products at all times.
More recently, I attempted a semi-local non-chain that was pledged to be “cheaper” than what I prefer. I had to conclude that it tasted like that kind of pizza I get when somebody who doesn’t really know me says “hey come over we’re getting pizza.” I’d wonder where the hamburglar did you FIND this? I’ve lived here for ten years and never had a pizza this bad. Why do you think this is GOOD? Pizza parties are the worst. I get two slices at most and then have to wait around not eating pizza or talking to people because I resent them for not buying enough bad pizza. How’s that fun? I can’t stand it. The pizza here was actually tolerable but it reminded me of that.
This does remind me, or it did before so many digressions and inserts that I no longer recall what actually reminded me: did you hear that the mcribs are “back?” I did, despite neither caring nor being aware that it had gone anywhere except directly into a toilet. Mcrib is the dumbest scam. “It” never goes away, but it’s always coming back, and then I’m always hearing that it’s coming back. It’s never national news that Chicken McNuggets are still here, even if we as living beings really ought to be outraged every day that they are. The official story is that mcribs were devised during a mcnugget shortage, in fat, but considering how simple a matter it is to fake a shortage of natural earth resources to push up their prices, imagine how much more easy it must be to fake a scarcity of something that’s not supposed to exist at all and very easily might not.
Also it’s the McRib, rather than the McRibs, or some McRib sandwiches. There’s just one riboid that returns year after year, because like other menu items it never decomposes and nobody wants to eat it. There’s nothing special in McRibs that should cause them to be scarce. We already went over this. Pay attention. It’s the same stuff that’s in the hamburgers pressed in a different mold and painted a different color and sprayed with a different flavor. They could make it out of broccoli and have it taste exactly the same and be eep times healthier but they don’t because people have some kind of weird pride about eating meat, even when it’s several stages removed and reformulated several times. One of the claims made to discredit Mr. Obama when he sought presidential space was that he ate arugula. Hey, he eats VEGETABLES. He CAN’T be American. Do you remember the big “story” that taco bell’s meat didn’t meat ah the legal meat requirement? Nobody cared to observe that the substitution was actually vegetable matter which we’d be better off replacing the entire contents with. They only wanted to say “ha ha, unnatural! Oh ho ho, fast food! Tee hee, verbs! OMG coffee”
Yet Kentucky Why Chicken famously mistreats and misprepares real animals and the end product is not any more holy. The only identifiable difference is that a piece of chicken costs twice as much as a taco, and they don’t even take the bones out for you.
I saw that written bit partway through my own writing. Although it does suggest the McRibs only exist at all because at one point in time McNuggets indeed were not present, which made me alter my own base remark, the coward, that has never been the case since. The article also does not suggest that the sole reason for the product’s absences is McDonalds’ self-assurance that it can get massive free publicity merely making the slightest deviation from routine, and that “McRib” is perfect for that by having a stupidly memorable name, so it can become something like a running gag. ANY product could be randomly removed, or not removed at all but suddenly said to have been unremoved, but it’s funnier and more consistent/efficient if the same one gets the moot every time. So the breach of routine itself has become routine!
Ha ha! I’ve figured it out! But what will happen to me now?
Ah, truly? I must say I hadn’t expected this!
Oh fah uhl I figured you wouldn’t tell me!
Rod Blagojevich knows where’s the party at. No doubt he will be funding it with his Jeopardy winnings. I expect only highest quality and plentiful part-like fare.
Awwwwwwwwwwwnawwwwwwwwwwwwww… I don’t even remember why he’s going to jail next month so it’s probably this.
I invented fallopian tubes.
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This is why capes are essential in everyday life.
Now you know the full story.
I “upgraded” word-press, the system which this website would function through if it could be said to do so. In fact I did this back in January and said as much at the time, but not in the proper entry body, but rather above that of another site entry, because I only intended it to be a brief notice, but then I wouldn’t stop talking and it occupied too much space. Since the primary intended matter of that bimshwipe took place in the past I decided that combined with the message from the present the piece then overall required time travel in excess of what was reasonable to make sense of. I corrected the problem immediately but I had to go forward a month to pay back the deficit.
What had prompted the word-pressure was when some alien being called “malware blacklist” called my email to congratulate my website for getting on the list, and warned me that my outdated copy of WordPress was a “high” security risk.
I was slow to notice because it is routine procedure for parties to occur without my knowledge, and if I find out there’s been a second it’s generally in my emotional best interest to remove myself from the flow of information entirely. I would elaborate further but then this would be pushed back to April, so I did the upgrade. I wasn’t allowed off the list but I did get to break several administrative functions, which is always exciting and cathartic.
Additionally, the tacky presenting imps now float above their bases. I don’t suppose they look any less dignified than before but they do seem less deliberately placed so they will have to go. Away. They had to go anyway, I suspect. Considering that the next-to-last specific comment regarding their presence that I recall receiving came from someone who has not spoken to me in nearly a year they’ve probably been up there for longer than necessary.
An add-on which is designed to remove garbage comments which would not work without me upgrading now works at last. However, the upgrade also broke the thing which allows me to open entries to comments which I had closed, because all the comments coming in were garbage, which amounts to the same thing, except if the add-on doesn’t actually work than I can’t close anything new either.
Although since that happened and I wrote about it in January it seems to have been repaired, you don’t know that, and in thatever situation the imps still float.
There were always measures in place to control the word waste generated by pressing them, but the old measures became self-conscious about me calling them out on some of their idiosyncrasies. Like that whole “not working at all” thing. Like that time some dubious unfiltered ad robot comment got this site permanently placed on a malware blacklist. Apparently undoing a press only leaves those in charge depressed.
To remind folks that it was trying very hard, the system would occasionally distract humans from commenting using the following alert.
Which worked out very well because occasionally is more than sufficient to cover the frequency with which I am worth talking to. I saw it myself when attempting to test the upgraded situation, and I said to me This explains a lot, and yet I know less than before. Prior to now I’d only encountered stories of this helpful notice’s existence. You may assume any error page that isn’t a depressing shade of green or that lacks any flippant text has eluded my ability to discover, much less rectify the cause of, for what nothing that’s worth.
Looking through my files now I definitely wrote an alternate version of that message in the pertinent file but this ever so helpful upgrade must have overwritten it and been so proud of the deed that it also decided to make the page appear more often.
I also evidently changed another message that I never even encountered. I doubt I’d be here to tell this story if I had.
And don’t you think I’d leave if I could?
I did it! There is no longer a mouse in my apartment. Now it is called a mice.
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You gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, and you too can make a stylish children linking arms paper-craft.
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Never make a sandwich with wet bread.
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Hoopay, I can eat an 18 inch circular pizza in one session again. This means I’m either due for a lot of new ideas and initiative or to be sick in the morning and annoyed that there isn’t any pizza left.
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Happy 200th birthday, wandering, peaceless poltergeist of perpetual commercial focus. Consider yourself one of us. In honor of this occasion I propose a downdated remake of Wild Hogs set in the era. Tim Allen will play Charles Dickens and John Travolta will be an actual hog.
Electronic Banking Monopoly. Hey let us take a really boring game and remove the most fun element from it: brightly colored, utterly unrealistic paper money in high denonominations. Ordinarily I’d want only 500 dollar bills, stacks of them, but in Monopoly the fifty has a more interesting color and so I don’t mind keeping those around. Otherwise I don’t enjoy Monopoly a great deal; it goes on for far too long and I’ve never seen a game end but out of apathy. Often time itself is the one who gives up. I hate most board/card games because they tend to be more chance than skill, if they aren’t chance exclusively, and if I’m playing one that means other people also are and they’re probably enjoying it and that means they’ll keep right on playing it. I can’t stand seeing people enjoy stuff that I hate. I like Scattergories because nobody else does and so I never play it and so I don’t discover anything that makes me realize I hate it.
The valet siblings could at least do the cards or the calculator up in a similarly impractical fashion to the money. What’s the calculator even for? When I use my debit card I expect someone else to figure out what I owe so I can look at my bank statement three months later and wonder when Comcast increased my monthly internet charge by twenty dollars or what I bought from “S-CONN-ST-U-BKS NEW HAVEN” that cost $109. There is uninvestigated potential to distract from the classy deficit with fraud and identity theiving shenanigans.
Much, if not all, of Monopoly’s enduring charm lies in its aesthetic, tactile appeals and how antiquated it is. Sure I’ll represent myself with a tiny metal thimble. I don’t know what a thimble is for; I believed it was a trash can for long enough, even though that concept of a trash can was also antiquated and based on outdated cartoons I’d seen and managed to not decry the lack of in-touch pandering within. Monopoly has absolutely no contemporary social relevance. Yet it has survived despite that. Its mascot is a sphere-headed 19th century mustachioed man wearing a top hat and a bowtie.
That alone proves he uh gosh I don’t even remember.
He would have no use for a credit card. Money to him is as much a financial asset as piece of physical property to act as a visual aid in his mocking of the down-trodden. His greatest joy in life is lighting hundred dollar bills with his cigar while posing in front of orphanages getting bulldozed to make way for enormous green plastic monoliths. He didn’t accumulate that much money to let someone else put it into THEIR enormous hilltop vault with a gold dollar sign on it that his only assurance at the existence of requires him to log into a website whose most intimidating security measure is refusing to cache his username.
I assume the robot edition will not be having any house rules regarding what the “free parking” space does. I also assume that having a computer screen 64% wider than when I started with the website has in the past 2.5 years made me feel like the same amount of text is less and that’s why I added another sentence here.
As every gimmick version of monopoly has a simpsons edition it is only fair that every simpsons gimmick has its own edition of monopoly.
Solly Humphrey the Humping Dog, KISSOPOLY still wins the absolutely shouldn’t exist contest. FRIENDS TRIVIA is disqualified on the grounds that I can’t tell what it is by my shoddy picture-taking. But there on the left, JOHN DEERE MONOPOLY! If there’s a perfect metaphor for the contemporary successful American, it’s John Deere Monopoly. Going completely out of your way to prove you love real man’s work and values and bootstraps while you invest in property, policies, and ways of life that have in mind absolutely none of the best interests of the people who actually do that work.
Obviously the original least-altered Monopolite is still sold and these are not intended to replace it, and any business has an obligation to make useless derivations of their popular properties forever until those stop selling, but I wish they didn’t.
Monopoly the board game the video game has itself seen a few hundred incarnations since it started. What could possibly be in Monopoly3 that requires so much hard drive space? Not “new stuff,” clearly. Since the video game version never had rainbow money to begin with, Monopoly log3 can’t even remove that and call it a feature. And I saved that image in 2004 so they’re probably up to Monpoly log12 by now, which is 3 gigabytes in size, justified by the inclusion of technology which requires you to be connected to the internet at all times to reprove you didn’t steal Monopoly, the game of business ethics violations every day and also requires that you install Quicktime for some reason. That is a separate download. A few years ago my family rented a house (I acknowledge the seeming irony of including this in an essayoid with so many jipes at oafs with too much money; trust me that we absolutely couldn’t afford to do that) and the owners had a Playstation but the only games were generic racing and Barbie titles, plus Monopoly the game, because they bring their kids up RIGHT. This wasn’t even the same house that had the full run of Down East Magazine stored in the basement.
Lamentably I no longer have the pictures which document this because I was storing them at that point on a computer whom my brother challenged for unrelated reasons to a series of physical contests in which it was not victorious, so you’ll just have to imagine the excitement. I’m left to assume the owners were the most boring people in the world or they merely hid any game that they thought someone might want to steal.
Surprisingly the maccident wasn’t because the full size edition of this was sequestered within it, either.
You fool! That’s what they would want you to think if they were clever enough to think about things!
I really ought to learn to stop asking rhetorical questions around these parts.
page 48 of this.
I tried using a brush. maybe you can tell. The ink ran out too fast, though. The pen doesn’t hold enough ink and the brush holds even less. Or the same amount but it goes on thicker and thus needs to be redipped sooner. Whenever I DO get faster I decide more things need to have ink on them and so no time is saved.
I was able to reduce the grime by increasing the contrast. I could have done that last time but it removed some of my fainter cross-hatching. This time I realized that faint cross-hatching looks terrible in a digitally colored comic strip so I didn’t do any except when I forgot not to.
In fack this is 48 and a bit of 49 since that last update had a bit of 48 in it. I didn’t do five rows again because I took the art in a direction that doesn’t look good, make sense, or get drawn comfortably, and so I yet ponder the ensuing frames. Whoopth. We won’t be here long. Or they won’t, anyway. It will be four months at the least for us.
It’s just supposed to be a silly diversion before the dorks go where they mean to be going (which is also a silly diversion, since I never wrote an ending), so it shouldn’t take me a week to draw the outside of the building. I thought hey wouldn’t it be funny if I based this on a real place that I went to and just happened to have pictures of? No because nobody who will see this has heard of that place (even I forgot that) and there’s nothing inherently funny about it apart from the name, which I changed, and not even to something that rhymes with the original or that is legible at the size I wrote it. And yet this “page” probably has about the least amount of post-scan line modification I’ve ever had to do, so once I totally lose my ability to reconsider bad decisions, the drawings will be very solid.
Prior to the decision, I couldn’t have spent more than three minutes on this. The ideas are spontaneous but they take so long to draw that I have a lot of time to regret them.
I considered writing “grub hub” on the revised sign, but there is an actual website called that. Here it is being discussed at Chow Hound. I wonder how food dude will weigh in on this.
Oh no, that’s real too! And now that I’ve violated oh so intellectual property of food dude SOPIPA is going to send me to the nibblet gibbet.
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I think I would do better on social networking sites if they dropped the social aspect. And the networking, as well. Thus I am here.
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I wonder how many times through history we’ve let some Carmen Sandiego-type villain make off with a roman aqueduct or a pyramid just because Interpol tried to go after them without the right warrant.
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Do you know what I just realized? What? WHO TOLD??!
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The thing that is currently blocking wikehhhpedia is really wimpy and easy to turn off. Or am I missing the point? Or does my going to wikipedia with the intent to see what its blocking measure looks like and if I can get around it exhibit a fundamental missing of many potential points of my existence?
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I recently learned that some people were blacking out their internet in protest tomorrow of SOAP, the notorious remover of blessed and peaceful blackness through the centuries. Well it’s about time I say. With that in mind I upload some particularly grimy watercolor objects from last year, confident that as few people as possible will see them. Although I keep up the fight every day by washing my hands in the dark, I’m used to people taking years to catch up to my trendsetting ways.
Notice that neither of these is doing anything but they’re both not doing it in approximately the same fashion, and both deserve our harshest retribution for it. The one on the right is probably only slightly worse.
Every thing it does is an atrocity. Every act is reprehensible. Every deed is dirty. The bow tie animal could be one of the spaceballs. All it does are dirty deeds. This is interfering with my right as a citizen to protest cleanliness. It is outrageous that that THING is still on the streets. I mean, it should be on the streets. It should be tossed out of a window onto a street. Perhaps out of several windows onto several streets, and perhaps motor vehicles will more closely acquaint the animal with the streets. It’s THAT bad. The thing is horrid. HORRID. horr-id. Can it be stopped? I honestly do not know. Every day it gets horribler and horribler. Truly it is atrocious. Can anything really be THAT bad? Yes. But a little stupid animal? Yes. Do not give it any appreciation. Do not even pretend, to get it to shut up. It will not shut up. It’s so dumb it will think you mean that and think that means it should continue talking about its bowtie or its feet or whatever stupid thing it might talk about. You can only win by not letting it win.
How about this: I’ll cut them off and toss them in a field and then you’ll have to find feet. The bowtie animal is a bozo. i would call it a bonehead, but i suspect it lacks a proper skull. It looks too punchable to have a skull, and if it has a brain surely a skull would have prevented the extensive damage which has no doubt occurred. Oh mushrooms I’m over the deadline by a minute. Now I’m a traitor and don’t support not supporting censorship. All because of feet. In fact I do support censorship but primarily of the elements close at feet at hand.
I know pretending I think SOPA is “SOAP” is really lame and obvious. I assumed it was, thinking I might have a decent angle on it. However, I legitimately do wash my hands in the dark and like imposing my weird habits on people. I have showered at least twice. Interpret that sentence any way you like.
This is a primary reason why I talk about pointless topics others don’t care about; I can have all the dumbest jokes to myself and not be concerned what lazy idiot I’ve never heard of already did it poorly and annoyed someone else I’ve never heard of in some never ending, never starting MC Escher gauntlet of unplacatable judgment of crimes which don’t matter (stop me if someone else on the planet has mistaken Escher for a rapper from the 1980s at some point in history). In fact the less people I’m aware of, the less I want to scream at. I’m a worse judge than anyone and can’t handle it very well, since I’d rather not yell at anyone louder than me. Additionally, when I see “hurr” or “derp” in a simulation of another human I lose my ability to consider it in a rational manner.
I wrote this in 2010. I never posted it. Or so I say. Look, see, at the url. “http://bimshwel.com/?p=341.” Last week’s was 439. That PROVES that my website entries have numbers assigned to them. I reckon I could repost three solid years of old bimshwellians that I never found occasion to link back to at any point and say I hadn’t already posted them, when I had, but nobody would notice. Likewise if you were to hack into this (I doubt it’s hard) and repost them yourself I wouldn’t notice either.
What does RED mean to ME? I don’t know what it means. I don’t think about stuff that way. I can’t get punched in the nose at Shop Rite and then come home and fling paint angrily at a canvas for three hours and have something I think is great. Red, to me, is just a color which some things are. So I thought of some red things and made a picture with those in it. And then I added other irrelevant, distracting stuff that would confuse people. The person who sent the email said I didn’t have to deal with the THEME if I didn’t want to. Which meant I really had to, now, just to prove that I could. And like usual I figured it would take a lot less time than it did.
Not bad, but not great. I wished I had started sooner, but really the sooner I start working the sooner I start procrastinating. I thought I could pull off something this complicated because before this I made a pixelly version that I thought looked pretty nice.
Well I thought it did. Making computer stuff is considerably easier for me than real stuff. Hence why I did it there, first, but I figured I could copy it well enough. I also probably grossly overestimated how much time New Haven art enthusiasts spend watching the intro sequences to old Sega Genesis games.
Hmmmyes… fascinating.
Well maybe the picture isn’t ideal but it’s good enough. Anyway, this isn’t at the small space gallery like last time.
You remember the small space gallery, don’t you? Well I do. It’s a place that is not really an art gallery at all, it’s somebody’s office with a few pictures stuck to the [evidently incomplete] walls. THIS time, though, my object was going up in the Sumner McKnight Crosby Jr. Gallery. Things are getting a might bit fancy now.
Yaztaplazca! It’s the old switcheroo! I ought to have been fooled by nothing less than the new switcheroo!
Darth Snack Mix returns again. This may even be the same bowlful from last time and nobody dared to move it.
This is actually my third run-in with the snack mix. I didn’t tell you about the second because it must not have struck me as interesting at the time. It seems really exciting now, though.
I think I was the youngest person in there and the only one whose goals were in any way absurd or narrative-y. While it’s nice to not feel old, for once, if the only fellow ar teests who “get” what I do are kids I’d rather be around them than pretentious snobs who honestly think smearing red paint on a rectangle and taping newspaper headlines to it is worth charging $500 for.
I did like this red clock, even if there’s no apparent reason why it should be red as opposed to purple, periwinkle or a normal clock color. I think the label says Michael Johnson. I suppose I ought to have read it at some point. The title of the piece appears to be “Mullet Trap.” Alright so the guy’s name might not be Michael Johnson.
I thought since I had actually painted something and was offering the actual thing I’d made rather than a copy, I should have a proper frame for it, rather than look for a cheap one at walmart that the thing would fit within. The fancy frame would have cost $112 somehow. So I decided not to have a frame. This is but a matte and only cost $24. Much like with my digital prints the bottom edge was cut off, but unlike my prints that is because this is actually for a reason and the person who did it was conscious of where my signature was. I wouldn’t want to bring shame upon the famous E. Cunni by associating it with this anyhow.
That fool has some talent!
Beans that settles it. I’m going somehwere else to get my prints made.
And then I’m coming back again.
I saw this reflected on the inside doors of the elevation chamber when I went to drop this off (the elevator was shiny) and observed that the large figure’s head is incredibly lopsided. Not that it’s turned to one side; it actually appears to be melting. the ears and the eyes are both at different heights. The pine cone is tilted, to the left, the opposite direction that the other stuff seems to be going in. I was trying to compensate for the right shift without realizing it. I don’t have an easel, nor space for one. All “real” things that I do are seen almost exclusively flat on my desk. Distorted. Always. And this thing is going to hanging up until september. Urgik.
I called it “vegnarok” because the only other thing I could think of at the time was “vegarmageddon.” I didn’t realize that invoking ragnarok implied one side was evil. The point here is that both sides are victims. I later decided “Saladnarok” was a much better title and requested that the name be changed, but I apparently only succeeded in altering one letter.
None of these names, in fact, are accurate, because the stuff shown is actually produce; much of what is involved is fruit, but I was not thinking with efficiency, and in any event I couldn’t find some way to work in any part of the word in which it was evident that was the word I had used. “Warduce?” “Broduce vs broduce?” (this was the year before I declared war on “bro”) Nothing good. “Folic Heroics?” “The seeds of war?” Oh that one’s almost clever. “Salad Oppressing?” “You war what you eat” alright that one’s just stupid. I eventually thought of “Ragnarcrop,” but I didn’t like the way it sounded. Which doesn’t make any sense because “saladnarok” puts emphasis on the “lad” which one doesn’t do when pronouncing “salad” unless reciting a poem about fads and doodads (putting emphasis on the lad sounds illegaler than it is).
I also thought of “farmageddon” but a quick google search revealed two different things calling themselves that, one of them a non-existent yet perfectly hypey computer cartoon series based on a comic strip that ran somewhere, allegedly, for two years in the early 90s with a wikipedia page written by the authors four years ago, and I suddenly thought of myself as considerably less clever. The animals talk, though.
I was required to prepare a typed “artist’s statement” in order for the thing to be displayed. I didn’t know how to do that so I supplied this instead.
Hello! I am called B—— Cunningham. I make pictures sometimes. Many of them can be found on bimshwel.com, which is a website.
I am fond of stupid things happening to stupid looking creatures. I don’t, in general, “understand” art beyond what I immediately see in it, so I avoid attempts at symbolism and “meaning” in my own output as best I know how. You are welcome to your own interpretation, naturally! My primary goal is the amusement of myself and potentially others.
I primarily deal with pixels and other digital nonsense, but I envy those who use paint and ink. I’m only allowed to display one piece here so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to misrepresent myself with a work in a medium I have no experience or comfort with.
In this scene the adherents of beets and the partisans of tomatoes have reached a moment of great potential conflict due to the vile trickery and sculduggery of Pinot Conio, the fiend whose upper portions float menacingly above, violating the laws of physics and perspective, as often occurs in uninspired film posters. My hope is that taking inspiration from the uninspired will overload the uninspiration meter and cause it to register a more favorable reading.
I think you’ll agree that this is incredibly stupid. However, despite it being the first serious thing I’ve ever attempted with this mysterious gouache substance, I am fond of the painting and have thus given it a ridiculous price to discourage any sensible person from purchasing it (I’m kidding, of course; no sensible person would take this for free!).
That’s done! My artist statement! It wasn’t so bad. I was worried I’d get myself in trouble. People are so easily offended in a dumpstervania like New Haven.
I didn’t include the last line.
I was trying to be as sincere as possible without seeming boring. The problem there is that in actuality I am both boring and insincere.
I discovered later that the artist’s statements were not displayed anywhere near the art or indeed anywhere near anything so it would not necessarily be clear what I was talking about when the time came for somebody to see this. So I was boring, insincere and irrelevant. I astound myself.
This is the best painting I have ever done, which would be a significant statement if I had ever made a good painting.
I should stick with acrylic paint, though, I think; that is the paint for indecisive mistake-makers who draw in pencil first. This is gouache. And after four days of looking at it I have a gou-ache.
And I know it’s not pronounced like that but it is spelled like that.
I can’t believe I didn’t put a pumpkin in here. It would have been much more clear than the coconut-with-orange-slices-attached-to-it mace in the upper right quadrant.
Here’s another idea I almost had. I say almost because I never figured out what it potentially might mean. Unless… gah what a fool I’ve been! It all makes sense: the store deliberately priced the frames out of my range to cover-up that nemitz stole them all. Ironic, since it’s impossible to frame nemitz for a crime because anything bad you accuse it of it probably did. The fiend’s already started a war, for beet’s sakes. Alas beet didn’t realize that the war in fact did nothing to improve its own sake. For no obvious reason we have chosen to imprison nemitz inside both the windows 95 pipes and 3d maze screensavers at the same time. It’s good that nemitz is in jail but it never lasts and in any event the crime was still done.
on the positive side I now have one more thing I can do badly.
page 47 is it now? Of that, I think it was.
I may be getting a little bit better at ink application. Not better enough, and certainly not any FASTER, but perhaps this means that will eventually be feasible.
It finally occurs to me why comic artists use blue pencils; because it’s a different color from the ink and so selective color detection can automatically remove it. I obviously haven’t used one here. It hasn’t been my experience that colored pencils’ marks are terribly compatible with erasers but I never considered testing it by color. Anyway that won’t do a thing about the grain of the paper or the unending hassle that is layer switching plus the increased save period which makes me reluctant to do it as often which is a terrible idea when using outdated image manipulating software.
If the government has the power to give itself more power, then doesn’t it already have that power? The fussing and video linking I encounter decreasingly have meaning to me.
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If I’ve learned one thing in twenty-eight years clearly I have not been holding myself to a very high standard.
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Usually I post this in my liverjournal but I haven’t read that in two years so I can’t reasonably expect that anybody else has either.
Also, usually I try to limit the list to one picture per month but I never succeed so this time I didn’t bother. I think you’ll agree that all of this is absolutely relevant.
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
This really helps you to see at the big picture; you can now easily compare them all to see which it is.